Mr and Mrs Weir Sheppard
by Jenwryn
Summary: Elizabeth/John. John and Elizabeth have been married for a very short time and are now packing for their honeymoon. Technically it sort of belongs to my MegAU, but it stands alone. When I think of all the other things I should be doing instead...! Fluffy.


_Disclaimer & A/N: I don't own anything in this story, except the story itself! And to be honest... this is a very 'plot-what-plot?' kind of little piece. I've had it sitting around amongst the chaos that is my desk for some time, but figured, what the hell, I may as well type it up and get it on here. If you're vaguely following my MegAU (which is what I should be working on instead of doing this... or even better, I could be studying! haha...) then it's set about 2010 in that AU. _

_Enjoy the randomness, and review! _

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**Mr. and Mrs. Weir-Sheppard**

'Uh-uh, pretty lady, not happening.'

John reached over, took the laptop from her hand and tossed it gently amongst the pillows on their bed. She gave him one of her mildly-offended looks, but he just shook his head firmly and circled her hips with his hands, saying, 'There is no _way _you are taking work with you on our honeymoon.'

They had been married a week earlier, but other business - and all the guests who had arrived on the _Daedalus _for their wedding - had kept them stuck in the city. But now, finally, he was stealing her away in a puddlejumper to a sweet little spot, on a sweet little planet, with nothing but sea, and sand, and affable locals. Very affable in fact - he'd triple checked himself.

She swayed against his hands playfully, but complained, 'Do you have _any _idea what a backlog of paperwork I'll have after a fortnight's absence?' True, she was leaving a perfectly capable Teyla in control - a Teyla who had jumped at the chance for a short break away from her stubborn, squalling son (though Ronon hadn't seemed as impressed at his end of the deal). But still...

John leant in and kissed her on the nose, 'Promise I'll help you catch up.'

The mental image of her husband, the Lieutenant Colonel, hocked behind a desk and helping her wade through piles of paperwork was so ridiculous that she burst into laughter, cupped his face in her slender hands, and said, 'Watch I don't hold you to that.'

His grin diminished a little at the thought, but he kissed her again anyway, then released her to help with the packing. They weren't taking much - after all, it was summer at their destination. And, furthermore, the local leader had been so impressed that the two most important people from the City of the Ancestors had chosen his village for their honeymoon, that he had already insisted upon giving them full room service and laundry.

'You don't have to pack _that_,' he said suddenly, as he saw her put one of the novels, that Cameron Mitchell had given him as a wedding present, in amongst the clothes.

She looked at him and arched an eyebrow. 'John. Fourteen days is a long time. I know you. You'll be chewing the floorboards in boredom by the end of it. You're allowed to take a book.'

He wasn't going to argue - after all, he'd realised early on in their relationship that he'd never win the little disagreements, and so he may as well save his energy for the big ones - but personally, he didn't think that _reading_ was going to be high on his to-do-list. Seriously. Fourteen days in a beautiful place with his beautiful wife and finally no distractions, and nobody to disturb them? He was pretty sure that he could think of a couple of ways to keep them entertained... His eyes grew a little dreamy and Elizabeth only had to take one glance at him to know _exactly_ which Elysian fields _he_ was wandering in.

She let the shirt she was holding up slip from her hands and shimmied closer to him, eyes twinkling, 'I can read your mind, you know...'

He put his face in her hair, breathing in the scent she'd used, and caressed her slightly curved belly with his calloused hands, murmuring, 'No kidding... Between Carson convincing me that a little fun won't bother junior, and the fact that you have finally stopped spending half the day with your head in the toilet, I have only _one_ recreational activity planned.'

She gave him another of her looks, and chuckled. 'My husband the romantic. And here I was thinking you were supposed to be the softie in our marriage.'

He lifted one of his hands from her belly and stroked her cheek, 'Sure I am. I'm just not backwards in coming forwards, is all, Mrs. Weir-Sheppard.'

She grinned at his use of the double barrel. She knew that he hated it, had wanted her to be Mrs. Sheppard, but even that much had been a compromise on her behalf. She'd already made it perfectly clear that as far as her name at work went, she was remaining Doctor Weir. Now she slid her arms around his neck, and shrugged happily, 'That forthrightness might just have paid off, Mr. Sheppard.'

'Oh, really now?'

'Mmm.' She put the packing out of her mind, and kissed him.

_Much _more enjoyable.


End file.
